


Lean on Me

by err4tic



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alliterations galore, Crack, Glory Hole, Humor, I don't know swearwords, I don't know words, M/M, Meta, Omegaverse, Oral Sex, PWP, Porn, Public Sex, Swearing, how dubcon can glory holes get?, potential drinking game - one shot every time Minho drops the f bomb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27402406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/err4tic/pseuds/err4tic
Summary: Accidents happen, and there will always be a hand willing to help.
Relationships: Choi Minho/Lee Jinki | Onew
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26
Collections: Kinktober Bingo 2020





	Lean on Me

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. This came out as I was resting after finishing writing a long (for me) smut fic and having a screaming match with a recluse spider in the bathroom earlier. I was the only one screaming. 
> 
> I apologize in advance for unleashing this abomination on you guys.
> 
> To my OnHo babies, I'm so sorry for making your first fic like this. T_T
> 
> Fifth Kinktober Bingo entry. 
> 
> Kink fills: A/B/O, Public sex, Glory Hole

**_Fuck_**. He can't be going into rut. He's not supposed to have it for at least another month yet, and he's in **_PUBLIC!_**

Minho blames his new supplements and workout routine. Everyone knows your hormones can get screwed up when you start a new exercise routine, but he's always been an exercise freak, and he tries out new routines all the time with no unforeseen side effects. He has always been regular—three months almost to the day. What the _**fuck**_ is so different now? 

He excuses himself from his companions, who are having a grand old time jumping around to the music of the punk band onstage, and heads toward the men's room. He despairs at the lack of lock on the room's main door— _Just my bleeding luck!—_ and locks himself in one of the two cubicles, the one furthest from the door. 

Shit, his skin is starting to break out into prickly heat rashes from his rising temperature. He sits on the toilet, trying to get a read of himself to estimate for how long he can remain decent company until he absolutely has to go. After all, one of his favorite people has just returned after being away for seven years, and it will suck **_balls_** if he has to cut his evening short.

He fishes into his pocket for the vial of pheromone neutralizer he always carries out of necessity—

(There was an accident before. Don't ask.)

—only to find it not there. 

_Shit. It's in my bag._

Okay, **_now_** he's fucked. _Goodbye, friends._

Damn. And now the heat is starting to descend. **_Marvelous_**. 

If he could only find a way to sneak out to get his bag so that he could douse himself in the scent and make a break for it...  
  
He looks down at the—rather magnificent, if he may say so himself _( **really** , Choi? Not the time.)_—tent forming under his heather gray trousers—why in the bloody **_hell_** could he not have been wearing black at this moment?—which is steadily forming a halo of dark gray— _aren't halos supposed to be_ ** _fucking_** _ **white?** —_around the part where the tip of his cock is. 

**_Think again._ **

Minho is **_miserable_**.

Feeling **_very_** slightly claustrophobic, he lets his eyes desperately roam around the perimeter of the small, stifling box caging his existence, on the lookout for some way to escape, or ar least something that can improve his current situation.

Ha. A hole. **_Freedom!_**

Except he doesn't really know what to do with such a small hole. Why the hell is it bored through the wall separating the cubicles…

No. _No fucking_ ** _way._**

And he has thought all along that this is a classy establishment. 

_Really, people do that? Do their cocks really fit? The hole looks small. Isn't that dirty?_

Inexplicably, the word flicks on a switch in his monkey brain. 

The next thing he knows, he has his naked, **_erect_** penis in his hand, and he is about to test the logistics and the geometry of the whole hole thing. 

Huh. **_It fits_**! 

**_Wait_ ** _... Is the hole bigger than I thought it was, or am I just really small?_

Now Minho is having an existential crisis on top of his unforeseen rut. **_Greaaaat._**

Like a deer caught in headlights, his heart seizes up in alarm when the door swings open, and the newcomer steps into the next cubicle. 

With Minho's cock still through the hole. 

"Holy **_shit_**!" he breathes out.

Oh, to be a bunny instead of a deer. _On second thought, I'll be having that heart attack after all. With a side of a new identity, Xue Yang's prosthetic mask, and fake ID, if you please._

Nothing happens for several long heartbeats. 

Suddenly, he hears a spitting sound, and a warm, wet palm engulfs his shaft—then a tongue licks the steadily leaking precum from his slit. 

Minho's knees nearly buckle, and he hastily grabs the top of the partition wall to keep from giving himself a broken dick. 

_God, I sound like an animal,_ the rational part of Minho's brain absently registers as he hears his ragged breathing and the guttural moans that come out of his mouth. 

Fuck. The guy's mouth is so good, he wants to knot the damn orifice right then and there. The only thing stopping him is the fear of mating with a fucking **_wall_**. Oh, the sheer indignity (on his part) and second-hand horror for the next person who will stumble upon the obscene display. They will have to call 119 to divorce him from the wall. Nobody will survive that encounter intact, least of all him and the wall—

 _Fuck. **Shit!** Just like that!_ The mental image reins in his extreme lust to make him cum in that Goldilocks level of orgasms—just right, not knotting-horny, but not blah, either. Still, this is good—no, this is so fucking **_good_** , his head hurts and his teeth start grinding against each other. Minho thinks that he's not a pretty cummer, so thank **_fuck_** there's a wall between them _(I love you, wall)_... But hey, none of his previous partners has ever complained about his orgasm face, so—

 ** _"What the fuck_** ," Minho whispers against the wall. This guy is fucking phenomenal. He twists a ring formed by three fingers around right where his knot would have formed, and Minho doesn't even know that it's an erogenous spot for him. His soft lips are doing magic to his cock, mouthing his erection like a flute (or maybe harmonica? He doesn't give a shit.) as his slightly calloused palm rubs circles at the top of his head, extending the long orgasm. He groans out in the throes of the best non-knotting orgasm he has ever experienced (and one of the best orgasms, period), "Dear God, marry me!" and the guy just hums and sucks **_harder_**.

During the long moments of his (absolutely bone-liquefying) orgasm, several people have come and gone, and Minho hears these and other variations of: 

> "It reeks in here!"
> 
> "Get a room!"
> 
> "Hi, hottie. Need any help?"

Shivering as his cock starts to soften inside that talented mouth, Minho finds that he has just run out of fucks to give.

Several long moments later, Minho's cock has gone completely limp inside the man's mouth, and the guy all but suctions his cock clean as he pulls away. Then, the man on the other side of the wall picks up his penis, lands a lip-smacking **_smooch_** on the head, and pats it gently before tucking him back to his side of the wall. 

Despite the lethargy in his limbs, Minho hastily zips himself into his trousers and hurries out of the cubicle, afraid to miss the guy. He has the oddest hunch that he'll never have sex this good ever again, and he is not about to let go of the opportunity to see where it can go. 

The other cubicle door opens, and the last of Minho's strength deserts him. Leaning his ass heavily against the sink, he thinks hysterically, _Oh, my God!_ —which, for some reason, comes out of his mouth as a breathy, "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw."

Out comes Lee Jinki. The guy who has just returned for good after finishing graduate school and PhD in the States. The man for whom Minho may have been harboring a hell of a crush for the last—I don't know, 10 years?—and would have pursued if not for the fact that he's supposed to be _**straight**_. And a fucking **_ALPHA_**. 

His characteristic eye-smile is tinged with something dark and is decidedly at odds with the fact that he's licking his cum— ** _his cum!—_** off his fingers. With great relish.

Minho feels his eyes narrow and his hackles rise, partly in aggression in the presence of another alpha and, even more unnerving (for him), the primal urge to **_FUCK. THIS. MAN._**

Eye smile still in place, the guy who is just now on the other side of the wall gnaws at his pillowy pink bottom lip **_(!)_** before deliberately saying, "Umm...I will?"

 _What in the everloving_ **_fuck_ ** _?_

***

 **PS** :

_Wait, did he say "I will" to the proposal or the chainsaw? Fuck!_

끝

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't ask me. I don't know what I'm doing. OTL  
> Also, yes. Choi Minho has seen The Untamed—in this story, at least.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Jiang Cheng gets a Happy Birthday](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27403783) by [err4tic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/err4tic/pseuds/err4tic)




End file.
